


and each one of us is a path somewhere

by fonulyn



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Feels, Fluff, Game: Resident Evil 2 Remake (2019), Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Mild Injuries, Piers Nivans Lives, Piers is alive and happy and healthy, Pining, Romance, Time Travel, all the feels, all the longing gazes tbh, tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25033690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fonulyn/pseuds/fonulyn
Summary: His heart still beating madly from the surge of adrenaline Piers turned to look at the man he’d just saved. “You okay?” He asked, but then their gazes met.Those eyes.Heknewthose eyes. A strange unease settled into Piers’ gut, as his brain tried to piece things together, but he didn’t get very far before he was awarded a shaky smile.“Yeah. Thank you. For that.” The man smiled a little bit wider, breathing a sigh of relief, something a little hysterical in his voice that showed how keenly he was aware of how close to death he’d just gotten. “You have no idea how glad I am to find another human being in here! I’m Leon,” he said, offering his hand, “Leon Kennedy.”And Piers felt like the floor opened up underneath him.--Piers gets thrown twenty years back in time. Into Raccoon City, 1998. He’d heard about what Leon went through that night, but he never thought he’d have to actually experience it himself. Together with bright eyed rookie Leon.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Piers Nivans
Comments: 19
Kudos: 86





	and each one of us is a path somewhere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WelshBaes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelshBaes/gifts).



> for Welshbaes, who wanted to read Piers and Leon surviving the happenings of Raccoon City together. happy birthday almost a month late! :’D I hope you’ll enjoy this!!💖💖
> 
> the happenings of RE2 (remake) are mostly accurate here, but I did cut some corners because I wasn’t willing to describe every damn puzzle in the game :’3 plus, y’know, to my knowledge Piers wasn’t actually there :’D I’m not very practiced in writing action, so… this is a little nerve-wrecking. 
> 
> _huge thank you_ to Theo. I couldn’t have done this without you 💖
> 
> but I’ll shut up. please enjoy!

“What the hell _is_ this thing?” Piers huffed, annoyed, as he and Chris lugged the heavy piece of machinery between them. It looked almost like a detached car battery, but it was bigger than that, and they both breathed a sigh of relief when Jill motioned for them to set it down on the table. Fucking _finally_. Jill had been very adamant that Chris shouldn’t let the machine out of his sight even for a second, and since dragging it around was a two man job, Piers had found himself stuck to it as well. Even when they’d stopped to store away their guns and equipment, one of them had kept their eyes on the thing at all times.

As an answer to his question Jill only gave a shrug. “I don’t actually know. But I do know that it’s DSO’s property now, and we need to get it back to them in one piece.” She circled the table slowly, hand raised but still not touching the machine, as if she wasn’t sure whether it was safe or not. “Do I need to remind you of the mess you made last time you worked with them?” she turned to look at both Chris and Piers, an eyebrow raised. They said nothing, as she’d expected, and with a wry grin she went on. “This is our peace offering.”

Piers frowned at the thing that was sitting innocently in the middle of the table. “I don’t see why they’d want something that looks like a broken car part,” he muttered. “But fine.” He leaned back against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He was so tired, he would’ve rather wanted to go back home and shower, before sleeping for a week. Instead he was here stuck staring at this… whatever it was, while waiting for whichever agents the DSO had deemed suitable to send to retrieve it. 

Besides, the agents were late. Chris seemed less than pleased, too, as he shifted on his feet and brushed his fingers through his short hair. “You said they’d be waiting for us here when we’d land. So where are they?”

“Calm down, boys,” Jill said, not unkindly. She understood the frustration, more than well, but she couldn’t exactly snap her fingers and make the DSO people materialize next to them. “You’ll be home in no time.”

“We’d better,” Piers huffed. He closed his eyes for a second, willing the tiredness to go away, but it didn’t really work as well as he’d hoped it would. Damnit, he’d been on his feet way too long by now, and it was making him grumpy. “Whatever sad excuse for an agent they sent better be here in—”

“Don’t worry,” came a familiar voice from behind him, a warm palm pressed against the back of Piers’ neck. “The sad excuse for an agent is here.” 

Startled, Piers turned his head, and although Leon was grinning at him, obviously amused rather than offended, Piers felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean—”

“Calm down, I know,” Leon laughed, giving Piers’ neck a small squeeze. He let the touch linger, he always did, even brushed his fingertips through the short hair as if in a caress. It was over as soon as it had started though, Leon stepping away from him and leaving Piers missing the touch. As always. 

For the millionth time Piers told himself that it meant nothing. It was only a friendly gesture. He of all people should be used to it, with his BSAA teammates always up in his personal space, but somehow every single time he was as much as in the same room with Leon his heart ached with it, left him yearning for…

Quickly he cut the thought, instead focusing back on the moment. 

“Wanna tell us what this is?” Chris asked, arching an eyebrow at Leon. All he got as an answer was a shrug, though. 

“I have no idea,” Leon admitted easily. “But apparently it’s something ‘revolutionary’,” he said, even the quotes audible in his voice, “and that it must not fall into the wrong hands.” He gave a slightly awkward shrug, squinting at the thing. “If you ask me, it looks like a car battery.”

Jill gave an eyeroll, but there was a smile lingering on her face and she chose not to comment. “Alright, so maybe you’ll get it out of our hands so that these two can go sleep before they fall flat on their faces. Look at them, they’re getting old.”

The words made Leon chuckle. “Sure, sure. Although I don’t know,” he paused, and although he did glance at Chris his gaze landed on Piers, “they look fine to me.”

If Piers had been less tired, he would’ve shot something back, as the joking back and forth had become like a second nature during the years they’d known each other. They’d come far from when they had first met in 2012, when Chris had introduced them and Piers had tried not to look too star-struck as he got to shake hands with the legendary Agent Kennedy. 

Six years later, and Piers still didn’t know how to interpret the meeting, if he was honest with himself. He was just a nobody, a random BSAA sniper, but Leon had looked at him as if he’d seen a ghost, eyes wide and lips parted as he’d been frozen on the spot. Chris had nudged him with his elbow, and only then Leon had snapped back to reality, covered it all up with a charming smile and a firm handshake. But even after, there had been something haunted in the way he looked at Piers for _months_.

There was nothing left of that now. Sometimes Piers thought he saw Leon give him sort of contemplative looks but they were so brief he could’ve as well imagined them. 

Suddenly the machine on the table crackled. The sound it made drew their attention, every pair of eyes in the room directed straight at it. There was a strange light blue glow to it, getting stronger by the second, little bursts of electricity dancing in the air around it. “What the—?” Chris started, frowning. 

Piers stepped closer. Maybe they had accidentally switched it on earlier? There was no other explanation to what was going on, at least none that he could come up with. Instinctively he reached out, the air around him crackling even more as he approached. Only distantly he heard someone yell “Piers, no!” but then his hand came in contact with the lever and an electric wave punched through him. 

All Piers could do was scream in pain. Then everything went black.

*

The next thing Piers was aware of was the headache. He took in deep, heaving breaths, trying to get a sense of what had happened. With a groan he forced himself upright, his knees buckling a little as he stood. This was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, his mind slow like molasses and his whole body tingling with the remains of the electric shock he’d gotten.

“Jesus Christ, what was that?” he said out loud, expecting for one of the others to chime in. Nothing happened, though, and Piers blinked his eyes open looking around. He was alone. And he was alone in a room he didn’t recognize. It was like a small office, with an ancient typewriter on the table and a big box in the corner, an open door to the next room where there were two bunk beds and a small sink. 

What the hell was going on? 

Piers frowned, taking in his surroundings again. The headache was fading already, and as he shook his limbs a little he felt completely normal. But he had no idea where he was. The typewriter on the table looked like the one he remembered from his grandfather’s office, the folding chairs had seen their better days, and there was really nothing very interesting in the room. Slowly he stepped closer to the desk, grabbed the newspaper on it and glanced at the headlines. 

What made him stop, though, was the date. The year was 1998. 

This had to be a dream, damnit. There was no way that Chris, Jill and Leon could’ve pulled a prank this elaborate on him. And he doubted that they would’ve willingly electrocuted him just to get to do something like this, anyway. He must’ve hit his head, or fallen unconscious, or… _something_.

Only then Piers registered the sounds from outside the room. No matter what the virus, the sounds of the undead seemed to always stay the same, and it made a chill go down Piers’ spine. He had no gun on him, no equipment, not even his vest, and quickly he searched the room for anything he could use. All he found were a flashlight and a small knife, and he grabbed them, as anything at all was better than a big fat nothing. 

Whatever was going on, he couldn’t stay here, so he decided to venture outside the small room and search the place. So he stepped out of the room and into a dark corridor. Someone had barricaded the windows, and Piers sent a quick thank you to whoever that was as it kept at least half a dozen zombies outside. They were groaning and garbling, slamming against the windows over and over, but it didn’t seem like they were going to get in anytime soon. Thankfully.

Carefully Piers headed further along the corridor, keeping his eyes and ears open for any possible threats. He almost tripped over a mangled corpse on the ground, grimacing at how the person was literally ripped in half at the waist. There was no way they were alive anymore. A quick search later Piers had acquired himself not only a handgun from the late officer, but also a shotgun from the corner of the room. Now if he could find some ammo, things were looking up at least. And maybe there weren’t any zombies inside the building, if he was lucky. 

Piers took a deep breath, carefully opening the next door. And what he heard immediately made blood curdle in his veins. Carefully he looked up, practically coming face to face with a goddamn ugly licker. He knew that the thing was blind, and knew it had incredibly good hearing, so carefully he inched forward and tried to get some distance between them. He kept his flashlight directed towards the licker on the ceiling, and he’d almost gotten around the corner, when the door at the end of the corridor opened.

The other door right underneath the licker.

A man stepped inside. He was obviously human, moving with more grace than any of these creatures ever could. But he was so focused on the slashed and mutilated corpses the creature had left behind all over the floor that he noticed neither Piers at the corner _nor_ the licker above himself.

Frantically Piers was trying to decide how to best get the man’s attention and not alert the creature. He already took a step forward, but then the man let go of the door and let it fall shut with an eerily loud bang. 

From then on, it was a race against time. “Above you!” Piers screamed, bolting forward to grab the man’s arm. He only barely registered wide blue eyes turning towards him before he’d already yanked the man behind himself and raised his shotgun. The licker leaped at them, but Piers pulled the trigger and caught it mid-air. At least half of that shot was luck, if he was honest with himself. 

Quickly, before the licker could get up again, Piers pressed the muzzle of his shotgun right against its engorged brain and fired another round. There was only a twitch of a limb, before it went still, down for good.

His heart still beating madly from the surge of adrenaline Piers turned to look at the man he’d just saved. “You okay?” He wanted to add something else, wanted to tell him to be more careful and to watch out for himself if he didn’t want to get killed here, but he was stopped when their gazes met.

 _Those eyes_.

He _knew_ those eyes. A strange unease settled into Piers’ gut, as his brain tried to piece things together, but he didn’t get very far before he was awarded a shaky smile.

“Yeah. Thank you. For that.” The man smiled a little bit wider, breathing a sigh of relief, something a little hysterical in his voice that showed how keenly he was aware of how close to death he’d just gotten. “You have no idea how glad I am to find another human being in here! I’m Leon,” he said, offering his hand, “Leon Kennedy.”

And Piers felt like the floor opened up underneath him. Raccoon City. 1998. Leon’s first day on the force. He’d heard the stories. He’d heard about this so many times before he should’ve made the connection earlier. Especially when faced with Leon – even if this was the younger, less tired, bright eyed and almost baby faced version of him. 

Quickly Piers got a hold of himself, grabbed the offered hand and gave a quick smile in turn. “Piers Nivans.”

Leon gave him a curious look, even tilted his head a little bit. “You a cop too?” 

“No, I’m—” Piers stopped himself from name-dropping the BSAA, realizing in time that the entire organization wouldn’t even _exist_ for years to come. It was 1998, the BSAA wasn’t founded yet, and Piers himself was somewhere playing with friggin’ toy guns since he was _eleven years old_. What the hell was going on here? 

So Piers gave an awkward little shrug, deciding to go with “Military.” It was close enough. “I’m not even supposed to be here, I…” He glanced down at the shotgun he was still gripping tightly. “I don’t even have my own weapons. I took these from an officer that didn’t make it.”

“Does it matter?” Leon asked, glancing down at his own handgun. “A gun is a gun.”

That almost startled a laugh out of Piers. _A gun is a gun_? Coming from _Leon_ of all people. Leon, who had pretty much everything custom made for himself nowadays. “You wouldn’t say that if you got to hold my sniper rifle even once,” Piers grinned, as he remembered the mission three years back, when Leon had saved all of their asses with that exact gun. “I love that thing.”

“ _Ohh_ ,” Leon chuckled a little, something utterly charming in the way his smile made his eyes crinkle a little. “A _sniper_. You do look the type.”

“The type?” Piers echoed, disbelieving. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Leon replied. He gave a small shrug, already turning around so they could get the hell out of this corridor. But he turned his head to look over his shoulder, and Piers could’ve sworn he didn’t imagine the once over he got before Leon added a “Kinda suits you.”

Piers sputtered, taking two quick steps to catch up with Leon. Was the man _flirting_ with him? Or was he just imagining things because he’d had a crush on the older Leon for _years_? He didn’t get the chance to comment on it though, because Leon spoke up again. He rapidly explained how he was looking for three medallions so he could open some secret passageway out of the station, as apparently the streets were swarming with so many zombies they couldn’t just make a run for it. 

It made sense, even if a secret pathway opened by medallions was some fantasy novel bullshit if one asked Piers. He nodded along to the explanations though, obediently followed Leon, and tried so very hard not to ogle his backside too much. He found it hard not to stare in general, as this Leon was… he was so similar, yet so different. And Piers didn’t know how to handle seeing Leon how he had been twenty years ago, before life had taken its toll on him. 

Leon kept a brisk pace all the way through the main hallway, until they got into the room labeled _west office_. There for the first time his steps slowed and he faltered, inhaling audibly to steel himself. Piers frowned in confusion, but then he followed the line of Leon’s sight, up towards the ceiling. 

There, in big bold letters, stood _Welcome, Leon_!

Piers could practically feel the guilt radiating from Leon. He placed a hand on Leon’s shoulder before he even thought about it, and only belatedly he realized that he didn’t have that kind of a friendship with _this_ Leon. Not that Leon minded. He even shifted on his feet so that he was leaning a tad closer, as if the simple touch was something he drew strength from. And it made Piers’ heart ache.

“I should’ve been here,” Leon said, voice small. “I came in late. If I’d only been here, if I’d helped them, then—”

“You might as well be dead, too,” Piers interrupted him gently. He got it, he really did. The Leon he knew always shouldered the blame if something went wrong, always beat himself up for the smallest of mistakes, and apparently it was more of a personality trait than something learned. But Piers also knew that with forces like these, one man couldn’t make much of a difference. Raccoon City would’ve been doomed even if Leon had been there on time for his first day.

“Maybe,” Leon admitted. He didn’t sound convinced. “But maybe one more person would’ve been enough to tip the scales. Now we’ll never know.” He reached out, brushed his fingers over the name plate on his desk, traced the letters of his own name. 

The window next to them rattled, a zombie roaring on the other side as it tried to force its way in, and that spurred Piers into action. He was ashamed of how grateful he was that he didn’t need to figure out what to say to Leon, how to comfort him in this moment. Instead he took the practical approach, and it took only a second for Leon to join in and help him barricade the window. 

Neither of them knew their way around the station but Leon had a map, and he took the lead with it. Their main priority was to get some more firepower, so they headed into the safety deposit room, where Leon used the keycard he’d gotten and unlocked the storage to get himself a shotgun. There were some shotgun shells too, and they divided them up between them. But their reprieve wasn’t a long one, not as the door was almost rattled off its hinges by two zombies that forced their way in. 

Two zombies were easily taken care of, that wasn’t the problem, but the strange melancholy that had gripped Leon seemed to be back in full force. He stopped next to the corpses on the floor, staring at their uniforms. “I don’t even know their names,” he said, barely audibly, but his voice got a little firmer as he went on. “They were fighting for their lives here, they were _dying_ ,” he let out a humorless laugh, “while I was sleeping off a _hangover_.”

That took Piers by surprise and he didn’t even manage anything else but stare at Leon from wide eyes. 

Leon took it as a sign to go on, sighing as he shook his head. “Pathetic, right?” He took a deep breath, his gaze still directed down to the two dead cops, as if he was ashamed to look up at Piers now. “My girlfriend broke up with me, and I…” he hesitated a little, “I got drunk. And I missed my first day. I got them all killed.” 

The last few words were spoken so silently they would’ve been easy to miss, but Piers’ undivided attention was on Leon now. He’d heard the stories about Raccoon City, about the zombie infestation and the sheer devastation that had struck the entire city down. But this part was something Leon had never shared with him, and he didn’t know how to take the new bit of information.

Carefully Piers took a step closer and placed his hand on Leon’s shoulder, relieved when Leon didn’t flinch away from him but instead leaned closer. “This was a station full of professionals, Leon,” he said firmly. “What happened to them is terrible, but it’s not on you.”

“Yeah?” Leon asked, finally turning to meet Piers’ eyes with his own. He didn’t exactly look entirely convinced but there was a hint of something like hope in his eyes, and that was at least a step in the right direction. 

“Yeah,” Piers answered without hesitation. All he wanted to do was pull Leon into a hug, but he was basically a stranger to him, and he wanted to respect his boundaries instead of getting too close to him without a warning. Desperately he wanted to lift the mood somehow, so he gave a crooked grin. “She broke up with you? Who in their right mind would let someone like _you_ go?”

There was a slight blush dusting Leon’s cheeks and he looked clearly pleased, and even if his laugh was still a little choked it was a huge step forward from the sad and defeated sound from earlier. “You don’t know me,” he said, amusement in his eyes, “maybe I’m absolutely unbearable.”

It took all of his self control for Piers not to blurt out that yes, yes he knew Leon, had been friends with him for years and in love with him for almost equally long. But somehow he managed, forced the words down and instead bumped Leon’s shoulder with his own. “I don’t believe that. And hey? Her loss. You’ll find someone better.”

It was probably only wistful thinking, Piers told himself, but he almost thought that Leon gave him a long, evaluating look at that. He brushed it off, though, shook himself out of the moment and instead took a step towards the door. “Let’s get going. The sooner we’re out of this place the better.”

Surprisingly easily they fell in step with each other, working well together as they made their way through the corridors and scoured all of the rooms for anything they could use. Every now and then, Piers almost forgot that he wasn’t working with the Leon he knew so well by now, but the younger version of him, as in so many ways he had barely changed at all. Yet there was so much sheer optimism in this younger Leon, so much easy trust and willingness to believe that everything was going to be fine.

In comparison, it was easy to see how much the years had weighed Leon down. The Leon Piers had gotten to know during the past years always seemed to be vaguely sad, seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. The worst part of it was how this Leon fully believed he could save the world, while Piers wasn’t sure if the older Leon did, not anymore. And the mere thought of that made him ache inside, made him want to offer any and all support he possibly could to the Leon he knew in 2018.

If he’d ever get back there.

It was only a few hours later when they’d managed to find all the three medallions that Leon said they needed to open the secret passageway in the main hall. It felt a lot longer, though, and Piers could’ve sworn that they’d been dodging zombies and sneaking away from lickers for _days_ instead of merely hours. Leon had been doing most of the talking, telling random little tidbits about himself, most of which Piers already knew but some that he stored away in his mind as precious new gems of information. 

So when they got back in the hall, Piers wasn’t surprised in the slightest when Leon immediately headed towards a wounded officer, who was lying on one of the frankly quite uncomfortable looking couches. He’d known of the man’s existence, although Leon hadn’t said much else than that he was hurt and that they needed to get him to a hospital.

“Lieutenant Branagh,” Leon called out, making the man on the couch stir. Smiling easily, Leon crouched down in front of him, looking at him with clear worry. “We’ve got the medallions. I’ll try to open the secret passageway now. This is Piers,” he nodded behind himself, and Piers stepped forward half a step—

—only to freeze in his tracks. When he’d heard _injured_ he had assumed that the lieutenant had been shot, or broken a leg, or anything that meant he was incapacitated but not actively dangerous. Yet this man had clearly been bitten. It was a small miracle that he hadn’t yet turned into one of the zombies, if Leon’s account of the timeline was accurate. 

The rest of the introductions passed Piers by without him hearing a single word, but he forced out a polite smile as lieutenant Branagh looked at him. And that was when he made the second startling discovery. Lieutenant Branagh knew very well that he was doomed. He knew there was no way out of this. And that calmed Piers down immediately. 

Only when Leon jumped up and went to insert the medallions into the statue, Piers snapped back to the present. Lieutenant Branagh looked at him with a frown, speaking in a pained voice. “I don’t remember ever seeing you here. Where the hell did you appear from?”

Piers gave a small shrug, resisting the urge to reply _from the future, surprise_! “You plan on coming with us?” he asked instead, in a voice as calm and nonchalant as he could manage.

Branagh gave him a startled laugh. “No,” he answered, glancing at Leon who was still fiddling with the statue. “But the kid was so adamant about saving me, I didn’t have the heart to…” he trailed off, but that was enough, Piers understood him more than well. “I’m as good as dead. You two get out of here. Warn the rest of the world.”

All Piers had time for was a nod, before Leon was back, bright-eyed and excited, reaching out for Branagh to help him up. “It’s time to go!” he exclaimed, startling back when Branagh only batted his hand away, growling in pain. “We need to get you to a hospital, right now.”

“No, no,” Branagh shook his head, his voice getting more pained by the second, his breaths more and more laborious. “Save yourself. I’m done for.”

“Come on,” Leon pleaded, trying to reach out for the man again. “I’ve got you. We can still all make it out of here, together, if you just gimme—”

“Go!” Branagh yelled, and with great effort he pulled out his handgun, pointing it straight at Leon. Immediately Piers brought a hand to his own gun, but he could read the situation, knew from his earlier words with the lieutenant that there was no real danger here of him actually shooting Leon. “I tried Leon, I tried. I couldn’t stop it. Now it’s too late,” Branagh went on, his hand with the gun wavering a little. “We can’t let this thing spread. It’s on you now!”

Leon still wasn’t convinced, stubbornly holding on to his need to save the man. “No! I can’t just leave you here like this! I’m—”

“Leon,” Piers interjected, voice low. He met Leon’s bewildered gaze with his own, steadily. “We need to.”

For the longest moment, Leon stared at him. Then he turned to look at the lieutenant, at the gun that was still aimed at him. Slowly he nodded. “I understand.” He was clearly displeased about it but he didn’t argue any further, but instead walked away until he stopped at the doorway, turning to look back. “I won’t let you down, Marvin,” he promised, so silently the lieutenant probably didn’t even hear him. 

Beside him, Piers took a deep breath, watching the passageway close up again behind them. 

The room they were stuck in was small, and there wasn’t much of use there, but they found an elevator that they could take down to the lower levels. It led them to a dark, silent staircase. They only made it halfway down the stairs before Piers couldn’t take the silence anymore, but had to break it. “Look, I’m sorry,” he started, clearly startling Leon by addressing him, “about your lieutenant.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Leon said, refusing to look at the other man. He swept the staircase with the flashlight, stomping down as he saw it was empty. 

“It was his choice,” Piers tried, still, as he saw it was bothering Leon and he didn’t want the lieutenant to become one more addition to the list of lives Leon thought were his responsibility. “He knew what was becoming of him, and he—”

Leon spun around, so fast that Piers almost ran into him. They were standing face to face, but because Piers was one step higher on the stairs, Leon had to glare up at him. “And _that_ was a good enough reason to _abandon_ him!?” he scoffed. “What if he won’t turn into one of them!? And we left him there to die!”

Instinctively Piers grabbed Leon’s shoulder, because that was a familiar gesture that the older Leon wouldn’t have batted an eye at, but this Leon angrily shrugged him off. Piers held up the hand, showing he wasn’t going to touch. “He _will_ turn. It’s only a matter of time. Anyone with bitemarks like that will turn, there are no exceptions. And I’m sorry. But even if we’d taken him along he would’ve turned into one of them and tried to attack us.”

“But I—” Leon started, but then he visibly deflated, all fight leaving him. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve seen it happen,” Piers replied, “too many times. I’ve lost friends, good soldiers, people as close as brothers to me, so many times now that I know the signs.” 

For a moment Leon examined his expression, as if he was trying to decide whether to believe him or not. But then he nodded, as if in apology. “Alright. I trust you.” He turned around then, continuing down the stairs, and it only took Piers a second to follow him. 

In the middle of the staircase there was a door to the left, and it seemed to lead into some kind of a machinery room. Piers tried to peek over the railing into the lower levels, but all he saw was concrete, nothing that seemed very useful. “Want to flip a coin?” he asked, as they had no way of knowing whether to continue down the stairs or take the left. 

“I…” Leon hesitated. He looked into the machinery room corridor, and then down the dark stairs. Neither of the options seemed very tempting, and he was already about to suggest they split up to cover more ground, before he realized that was the very last thing he wanted to do. So he took a deep breath and made the decision. “Left. Maybe they have the blueprints to the lower levels there. Would be useful to have a map.”

“Alright,” Piers nodded. He grabbed the shotgun just in case, because he had a bad feeling about this place. They stepped on the metal grid side by side, looking into the room that seemed to at least be blissfully empty of any zombies. Maybe a little _too_ empty, a little too silent. 

Until loud footsteps ran over them, so fast neither of them saw what it was but they both _definitely_ heard the roar. 

“What the hell was that!?” Leon gasped, eyes wide as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“Nothing good,” Piers huffed, grabbing Leon’s arm to pull him along. “C’mon, let’s not wait around for it to come back.”

They picked up the pace until they were jogging, their hearts thrumming with fear and adrenaline, as they couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here. Neither of them wanted to find out what the hell that thing had been. Only then they ran into a dead end, a locker that had fallen over blocking the only doorway they could’ve possibly taken. 

“Fucking hell,” Piers muttered, as they stepped forward to push the locker out of the way. “Why does everything need to be ag—”

That was as far as he got before something big and bad practically punched the locker out of the way. They both stared up at this half-man, half-monster for a second too long, stunned by the gigantic eye that was growing on its shoulder. Then it charged, and Piers didn’t even have the time to raise his shotgun before he’d been thrown on the ground, the impact pushing all air from his lungs, and the monster was on top of him, trying to rip his throat out. There was distant yelling, the sound of a gun being fired, the creature’s roars, and the creaking of the grid underneath them, all at once in a cacophony of sounds. 

And then the floor gave in. 

Piers hit his shoulder painfully going down, and before he managed to get himself reoriented enough to even stand up Leon was suddenly there, on his feet, between Piers and the hulking creature. He was firing his gun, and saying something Piers couldn’t decipher, but when he reached a hand out Piers unhesitantly grabbed it and let himself be pulled up. 

“Aim for the eye!” Leon yelled, but the next second he had to dodge the monster’s claws as it swiped at them, with enough force to probably cut someone in half if it hit properly. 

Piers couldn’t deny that he was almost proud of how well Leon was handling this. Before tonight he hadn’t even seen a zombie, and now he was finding the weak spots of big monsters in seconds? Piers knew it was irrational, but a splash of affection and sheer pride warmed his chest anyway. 

They had the advantage of it being two against one, and easily they found a rhythm that worked for them. They took turns reloading, yelled instructions at each other to avoid the attacks the creature made towards them, and it was by a damn miracle that neither of them got even a scratch on them during the confrontation. Unless one counted the bruises Piers definitely got from being thrown through the floor. 

Finally, fucking finally, the creature screamed in pain and stumbled at the railing, tripping over it. Quickly they both ran closer, in time to see it falling into the darkness, until there was no trace of it left. 

Leon turned around, releasing all air from his lungs in one huge exhale, doubled over in pain and holding his bruised side. “What _was_ that!? I’ve never seen anything that… huge.” He shook his head a little, his breath coming in short gasps still as he tried his best to calm down. 

“I don’t know,” Piers answered truthfully. He didn’t have the heart to tell Leon that this definitely wasn’t even close to the biggest and baddest BOW he would have to take down. Instead he stepped closer so he could sneak an arm around Leon and keep him upright. 

What he didn’t expect was that Leon didn’t only lean on him but turned, wrapped both of his arms around him and hugged him as tight as he could. All Piers could do was hug him back, press his face into Leon’s hair and inhale deeply. When he closed his eyes it felt like he was embracing the Leon he knew, even if there had never been anything quite this desperate, quite this clingy, to the handful of hugs they’d shared in the past.

When they detached, Leon gave a small, almost uncertain smile at Piers. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

And for the first time after being thrown twenty years into the past, Piers was actually truly glad about it. If he could give at least some modicum of support to Leon during the worst night of his life, at least so far, then hell if he wouldn’t do everything he possibly could. “Yeah,” he answered, “me too.”

Neither of them felt like letting go just yet so they kept leaning on one another as they limped forward, exhausted and ready for the universe to give them a break. Only when they found a ladder they needed to climb to get on the upper level they reluctantly detached from each other. Somehow they managed to drag themselves up, and although every single muscle in their bodies was screaming for a break, they knew they’d need to push forward. 

When they got to the parking garage, they both already breathed a sigh of relief. This was their way out. This was where they could get out of the station and then hightail it out of the city as fast as they possibly could. Freedom was so close that they could practically _taste it_ , and that made Leon almost chipper. It was the adrenaline combined with the exhaustion, but he couldn’t stop grinning as they marched across the concrete floor. 

“What’s the first thing you’ll do once you get out of here?” he asked, tilting his head enough to grin at Piers from over his shoulder. 

Piers laughed. “Sleep. Or no. Shower. Or maybe grab something to eat?” he was tired and hungry and sore, and he honestly didn’t know which of them more than the others. 

“Food sounds amazing,” Leon sighed, “I could just kill for a good burger right now. Maybe we could find some place close by that isn’t infested by zombies and, you know, has some actual people working there and we could th—”

The words died suddenly, and Piers was immediately on alert. “Leon? What is it?” He hurried up, jogging the last few paces to catch up with Leon, who was standing in front of the shutters staring at the ticket machine. 

Leon turned around and the joy of getting out of this nightmare had been replaced by utter defeat. “We need a keycard,” he explained, valiantly attempting a small smile although it fell flat the second he tried. 

“Fucking hell,” Piers sighed. He should’ve known. Nothing ever happened this easily in their line of work. Nothing. He stopped right next to Leon, and he couldn’t stand the defeat he saw written all over those features. He _needed_ to make things right again. “I promise you,” he said firmly, “we _will_ get out of here.” 

The intense urge to protect wasn’t new, Piers had felt it before, had felt it _towards Leon_ before, too. And he knew that Leon didn’t need him, that Leon could take care of himself, and that Leon could survive on his own, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to protect him at all costs. There weren’t many things on this earth that Piers wouldn’t do for Leon S. Kennedy. 

And with Leon looking at him so earnest, so trusting and so _young_ , that urge was back stronger than ever. Slowly Piers licked his lips, his gaze dropping down to Leon’s mouth even as he tried to resist. He was inching closer, and he saw Leon’s eyes fall halfway shut, saw how he wasn’t pulling back but was leaning to meet him halfway instead. 

“Leon,” Piers choked out, “I’ve wanted—” 

He was cut off by loud barking, and before either of them realized what was going on something flashed by, charging at Leon and making him stumble. Leon fell onto the floor, pinned down what was a zombified, rabid dog that was aiming its razor sharp teeth at his jugular. 

Immediately Piers drew his gun but just as he was about to pull the trigger he hesitated. What if he’d hit Leon, too? From the angle he was looking at them he might as well put the bullet through Leon and not the dog, with the way they were wrestling and writhing and struggling on the ground. And what if he—

Suddenly there was a loud gunshot echoing through the garage. The dog went limp and fell off Leon, who immediately struggled to sit up. Piers however had already turned his gun towards the person slowly approaching them. It was a small woman, dark hair and even darker sunglasses – at night – wearing a trench coat and impractical heels.

“Hey,” she greeted in a surprisingly low voice as she got closer to them.

“Who is that?” Leon asked, eyes wide. 

There was no time for anything else though before the woman called out “Stay sharp!”

Without needing any more instructions Piers turned his gun on the dog and shot it, just as it was beginning to get up from the ground. Afterwards he turned his gun back on the woman, noticing in his peripheral vision that Leon had done the same. 

The woman scoffed, digging something from her pocket. “Lower them, boys,” she said, flipping open a badge to show them, “FBI.”

And it was in that second that Piers knew who the woman was. Ada Wong, in the flesh. Standing there and claiming to be FBI although she was the furthest thing from that. Piers already opened his mouth to call bullshit on that, but in the nick of time he bit his tongue and said nothing. He was in the past. He didn’t want to fuck up the entire timeline unless he absolutely had to. He was probably endangering enough just by being here. 

“Sorry,” Leon started, lowering his gun already. “Thank you—”

Another shot followed, as Ada put the dog down for good.

“…for your help,” Leon muttered the end to his sentence.

Ada scoffed at him, and if she hadn’t been wearing the ridiculous sunglasses Piers was certain they’d both be getting a distasteful glare from her right now. “Surprised you made it this far,” she said, “why do you boys have half a dozen guns between you if you don’t know how to use them.”

While she was speaking Leon pushed himself up on his feet, dusting off his clothes a little. They were already stained in blood and brain-matter, but maybe the illusion of cleanliness made him feel a little better. “FBI, huh?” he asked, curiously tilting his head at her. “What’s going on here?”

“Sorry,” Ada called out, already walking away from them, “that information is classified.” She stopped for a second, turning to look at them from over her shoulder. “Do yourself a favor. Stop asking questions, and get the hell out of here.”

“Hey! I’m not done talking to you!” Leon yelled, taking a quick step towards her, but she’d already vanished into the shadows. For a second he hesitated, but then decided against chasing her, instead turning to frown at Piers. “There’s something really fishy about her, right?”

“You got that right,” Piers muttered, rolling his eyes. Again he had to stomp down the urge to tell Leon what an asshole Ada really was, how she had screwed everyone over multiple times, most of all Leon. Yet he settled for a vague “I wouldn’t trust her as far as I can throw her. Be careful, okay?” 

Leon gave him an odd look and he tried to look less annoyed, even though he probably didn’t manage that well. He was angry at himself for not shooting the dog when Leon was in trouble, for hesitating so long that Ada got to play hero. He was angry at Ada for taking the shot so flippantly, as who knew if she would’ve hit Leon too, with the way both Leon and the dog had been moving while struggling. 

And he didn’t know whether he was more angry or relieved that the moment had broken before he had kissed Leon. It was something he had dreamed about, but wouldn’t it be wrong to do it _here_ , in the past? Would he be taking advantage? Would he be changing the fucking future and screwing everything up? He could barely wrap his mind around the fact that he was _in the past_ , and he still half expected to wake up any second, gasping for breath and heart racing, soaked in sweat from the nightmare. 

There was a gentle touch to his shoulder, and when he turned his head Leon was right there, smiling at him tentatively. “Hey, you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Piers brushed the question aside. He could feel himself relax though, the contact of Leon’s palm on his shoulder already enough to bleed some of the tension off him. “Can we just… go look for that key card so we can get out of here?”

“Sure,” Leon agreed easily. “I’m still down for those burgers after we’re free, if you are.”

Despite his best judgment Piers was already about to shoot back an ‘ _is it a date_?’ but he got cut off by the loud barking noises from the next room, the sound of scratching and running somehow even amplified in the silence surrounding them. So instead he grimaced, not even trying to hold back a low groan. “More dogs. Great. We’re _not_ going that way.”

That startled a laugh out of Leon, his eyes sparkling amusedly as he nodded. “Okay. Not going that way,” he agreed easily, ”I think I saw a door back there, let’s go see what we’ll find there.” He hesitated for a moment, looking like he was going to say something more, his gaze flitting over Piers’ face. Eventually he changed his mind though, just nodding towards the door. “Ready?”

They only needed to take one step into the room to realize they were in jail. In silence they exchanged a long look, both gripping their gun tight as they slowly proceeded. Even here the power was out and their flashlights barely provided enough light to see where they were going. Piers looked into the first cell, startling a little as a zombie pressed itself against the bars, attempting to get at them. Most of the cells had zombies in them, and Piers wondered if some of them were just civilians who had thought that this would be a good place to hide from the apocalypse. 

He honestly didn’t think anyone here was alive anymore. And the grim line of Leon’s mouth showed that he thought the same.

The surprise was real when they stopped in front of the last of the cells, only to find a man, a living, breathing non-infected man sitting there idly and smoking a cigarette. “Hello?” the man said, standing up as he noticed that they were approaching, and he was clearly relieved as he let out a small laugh. “I don’t believe it! Real human beings!” He laughed again, waving the hand that wasn’t holding the cigarette. “Hello, humans!”

“Who are you?” Piers asked, but at the same time Leon went “Have you been here for long?” 

And it was Leon’s question the man chose to answer. “Long enough,” he huffed, “Are we the last ones alive?” He looked from Leon to Piers and back again, before arching an eyebrow expectantly. 

“No,” Leon shook his head a little, “there’s a few of us.” He glanced at Piers, too, even gave him a small, private smile. 

“Oh. That’s good news, I guess,” the man said. He seemed suspiciously fidgety, like he was hiding something, and that immediately landed him on Piers’ radar. Couldn’t hurt to keep a closer eye on him, at least. “Unless, of course, Irons sent you.”

“Irons…?” Leon frowned, confused. “You mean Chief Irons? Is he still around?”

“Who cares!” the man exclaimed. “Hopefully he’s somebody’s dinner by now. He’s the bastard that locked me in here!”

Immediately Leon’s expression got pinched, clearly displeased. “I’m sure he had a good reason.”

“He did,” the man admitted easily. He took a drag of his cigarette, before dropping it down on the ground and stubbing it with his shoe. “I was about to blow the whistle on his dirty ass. I’d have done the same thing too, I guess, if I were him.” A door creaked somewhere and it immediately made the man’s demeanor change. Where there’d been calmness before, he now was alert, and approached the bars urgently. “Hey, I’ll make you a deal. Unlock this cell, and I’ll give you this.”

He held something up, and it only took a second for Piers and Leon to realize that it was a keycard to the garage. Exactly the thing they needed to get out of here. The man seemed to read something in their expressions as he almost grinned, even if the slightly panicked gleam was still present in his eyes. “There’s no other way outta that parking garage, believe me!”

“Sorry,” Leon shook his head immediately, “I can’t do that. I have to talk to the chief first.”

“Leon,” Piers interrupted, “a word?” He took a hold of Leon’s elbow and pulled him two steps to the side, dropping his voice lower even though he was sure that the stranger could hear what they were saying if he really tried to. “We really could use that keycard. We have no idea where, if _anywhere_ , we can find another one.”

Leon clearly wasn’t convinced, and Piers sighed. “In a situation like this? How much harm could he do even if we let him out of here?”

“You can’t know that!” Leon burst out, before he remembered the situation and lowered his voice as well, to an agitated whisper. “He could be… a criminal!”

“Yeah, he could,” Piers agreed, “but we’ll be _dead_ if we don’t get out. At least—”

That was as far as he got before there were ominous footsteps echoing around them, and the man in the cell seemed to fully panic. “Hey, hey! You need this! C’mon, don’t be assholes! You know I’m right, you need to have this!” He waved the keycard in the air a little, turning to Piers. “Tell him! You—”

As he’d been speaking, the man had backed closer to the wall, but suddenly the bricks behind him crumbled and fell to the ground as a gigantic fist literally punched through the wall. That made everyone startle, Leon ran to the bars and Piers raised his gun, but the stranger in the cell had no chance to react to anything before a large hand grabbed him by his face.

The man screamed, but it was cut short by the sickening sound of his skull cracking. Whatever monster it was behind the wall easily crushed his entire head against the bricks, dropping him down like a squashed insect right after. 

Then the creature marched off. The footsteps receded, and Piers and Leon hadn’t even gotten a good look at the thing.

“Oh my god,” Leon gasped, his eyes wide as he stared at the mess in the cell. “What the fuck!?”

Another set of footsteps caught their attention and they had both turned towards whoever it was approaching them, guns up, when Ada stepped into clear view. It was easy to tell she was rolling her eyes at them, even with the dark shades she had on. “It’s just me. So you can put those things away.”

Leon still looked shaken, his eyes wide as he looked from her to Piers and back. “I don’t even know what _happened_ ,” he said, “it just… happened so quick.”

“I _told_ you to get out of here!” Ada spat. “You wouldn’t want to end up like Ben, would you?” She turned to look at the dead man in the cell, her lips pursed into a displeased frown. She didn’t seem shocked about what she was seeing, only annoyed that her plans weren’t going the way she’d hoped.

“You knew him?” Leon asked curiously, stepping closer to her.

Ada turned to him, oozing indifference. “He was an informant,” she replied shortly, “had information of use to my investigation.” She already turned away from them, and she was obviously not interested in making friends or allies here, but what _was_ she doing? That was a better question. And Piers was certain that she was up to nothing good.

“So what he said was true?” Leon asked but Ada was already walking away from them, even as Leon quickly tried to grab a hold of her arm to stop her. She dodged it, and Leon immediately raised a hand up as if to show he wasn’t going to repeat the action. “You can’t just keep walking away from us,” he said instead, and although he was still polite there was clear irritation in his voice already. “What’s even your name? I’m Leon Kennedy.”

Piers grit his teeth and didn’t say a word. Not that Ada seemed to care, she had barely given Piers a glance during the entire exchange. Piers wanted to think that it was because she sensed he would never trust her, but he had an inkling that it was probably because she found Leon attractive and just liked looking at him. Then again, who wouldn’t?

“Find a way out, _Leon_ ,” Ada said, stepping a little closer, and there even seemed to be a tiny hint of a smile gracing her lips. “Then we’ll talk.” She turned away again and marched off, but before she disappeared around the corner she threw out a “The name’s Ada.”

“I still don’t get what her deal is…” Leon muttered, frowning after her. After a moment he turned towards Piers though, his expression softening. “I’m sorry. Now the key card we need is right there but… we can’t get into that cell, can we?”

There was a panel next to the bars and Piers took a moment to examine it, but to his dismay he realized that he couldn’t take care of it without the right tools. They’d need the electrical parts it was missing, or they’d need a key, and at the moment they had access to neither option. “Yeah. I think we can find what we need at the station though? To get this open. And if not, someone else must’ve had a keycard too. It’s not like he’s the only person whose car is in there.”

“You’re right,” Leon nodded, more than once, as if he was psyching himself up a little. “Let’s get going then. We’ll need to find a way back to the station. And…” he grimaced a little, looking at Piers apologetically, “it means we need to take the second route. Sorry.”

The dogs. How nice. Piers sighed a little but he knew it wasn’t Leon’s fault. Whoever it was that planned this maze of a police station could go fuck himself though for all he cared. “Just be careful. We already got jumped by one dog, and by the sound of it there’s gotta be a pack of them in there.”

They fell silent as they made their way through the parking garage again to the other side of it, only hesitating briefly near the door that separated them from the barking. The first corridor was empty and they already breathed a sigh of relief, but as they proceeded further the barking only got louder. Piers was gripping his gun tight, trying to keep an eye on every dark corner in case there’d be movement there. 

When they finally stepped into the kennel, they first found four infected dogs locked in rattling little cages, barking and throwing themselves at the bars in an attempt to break out. They were rabid, gone from this world already, and in silent agreement Leon and Piers put all of them out of their misery. The barking stopped, it was silent again, and Leon turned to glance at Piers. “You know, I love dogs,” he said with a small, joyless smile, “but these things? I don’t even know what they are anymore.”

Piers froze mid-step, stared at Leon from wide eyes. 

_“You know, I love dogs,” Leon says, nodding towards the person on the other side of the street, walking their Labrador puppy, “If I ever live long enough to retire, I’m getting one. Or two.”_

_Chris stubs out his cigarette, huffing amusedly at the words. “Don’t be so morbid, Leon,” he scolds, glancing at Piers. “You’re scaring the newbies.”_

_As if only now realizing Piers is standing there too, Leon looks at him and smiles. “Sorry,” he says, “But you know how it is. You might be new, you’re not dumb.”_

“Piers?” Leon asked, worried, even placed a palm onto Piers’ shoulder. 

That shook Piers from the memory and he quickly tried to cover up his momentary lapse with a smile. That had been on the first day he’d met Leon and for some reason, hearing the words now, with the exact same emphasis, had made his brain flash back to it. “The zombies aren’t people anymore either,” he said, coughing to clear his throat so he’d sound as normal as he could, “so I guess it’s the same for everything.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Leon agreed. He gave Piers an odd look, but he didn’t push.

Things kept on getting worse, as the next room they reached was the morgue. Leon took it calmly, pausing only to read a note left on the table before rummaging through the room for whatever useful items there was for them. Meanwhile Piers couldn’t entirely shake himself out of the weird melancholy the memory had instilled in him. 

What if he’d never get back to his own time? He couldn’t even begin to imagine how difficult it would be if he was stuck here indefinitely. His family, his friends, they were all living their lives but Piers could never see them again because in this timeline, there was another Piers too. And there was no way that he’d get a job, he had no valid ID, he had no place to live and…

Piers forced himself out of the near panic he’d gotten himself to. He took a deep breath, then another one, and a third, until he noticed that Leon was giving him another one of those contemplative looks. 

What if he’d never see the Leon from his own timeline again? 

That thought almost made Piers panic again, but then Leon stepped next to him, showing him something in his palm. “I found a key. And there’s a map on the wall, I think with this one we can get to the staircase and back to the station. Maybe we’ll have luck with a keycard there.”

Leon spoke so matter-of-factly, seemed to be so in control of the situation, that it eased the tight knot in Piers’ chest too. “That sounds like a plan.” He nodded. “Did you grab the map?”

Turned out that Leon had taken the map along, and he had also noticed that there was a generator room right next to them, so in hopes of getting the power back on they headed that way first. For once, it was as easy of a job as flipping a couple of switches and putting a fuse back in. The lights around them flickered, and in a moment of victory they exchanged quick grins and a high five. 

The victory was short lived though. As soon as they stepped back out of the generator room, they heard distant barking and the sound of nails against the tiled floor. The first dog sprinted at them from around the corner and Piers easily put a bullet between its eyes, before grabbing Leon’s wrist to pull him along as he sprinted down the corridor. There was no use in staying to find out how many of those there were, and where they were coming from. 

They managed to dodge a few dogs, some in the nick of time, all the way to the kennel. Yet as they rounded a corner there, a sound caught Piers’ attention and he stopped, against all instinct. “What was that?” Holding his gun in a tight grip he turned around, but that was all he managed to do before one of those gigantic dogs launched itself at him. 

All Piers registered was how he fell backwards and hit his head on the floor, and how there was a tearing pain in his left shoulder. Desperately he was trying to keep the dog’s teeth away from his jugular, the snapping of those jaws way too close for comfort. If he hadn’t been so panicked he would’ve laughed as this was the exact thing that had happened to Leon before, the exact thing he’d warned Leon about, and now there was no Ada to take a reckless shot and save him, was there?

Then there was a boot an inch from his face, kicking the dog to the side, before Leon fired three rounds into it, all the while still standing above Piers in a protective stance. 

Only when the dog stopped moving Leon turned worried eyes towards Piers, reached out to help him up on his feet. “You okay? Did it bite you?”

“No,” Piers answered, grimacing at the pain in his shoulder. Only when he was standing again he dared to take a look. His shirt was torn and bloodied over his shoulder, hanging off his frame. Apparently the dog’s claws had gotten stuck on the fabric as the shirt was in a much worse shape than his skin. Thankfully. “Got scratched though,” he stated the obvious, looking up at Leon. “We need to get someplace safer so I can take a look.”

Technically Piers knew that getting infected from a scratch wasn’t very likely. He knew the percentages by heart, he’d trained for this. With T-virus, being injected with the virus itself led to an infection with the success rate of 99%, ingesting water or food contaminated with the virus led to infection at a 91% rate, direct fluidic transmission from saliva, blood or any other bodily fluids at a 86% rate. Dry scratches? A mere 0.7%. And Piers was praying he wasn’t that unlucky. He had to make sure he wouldn’t get anything in the wounds though.

And despite the odds, there was worry swirling in his stomach, making him feel sick. 

“C’mon,” Leon slid an arm around Piers’ shoulders and pulled him along. “I know where we’re going. We’ll be safe there.”

Piers allowed himself to be pulled along. They had to dodge three zombies on their way, but that was a relief as it could’ve been so much worse. The key they’d obtained got them to a staircase, and the staircase got them into the station’s ground floor. Determinedly Leon brought them to a room and, just to be certain, barricaded the door behind them too.

Only then Piers realized that it was the same room that he’d woken up in when he’d been thrown back in time. Leon seemed to be familiar with the room too, as he immediately helped Piers into the small back room, and made him sit on one of the bunk beds. 

Leon crouched down in front of Piers, looking up at him. “Can I take your shirt off?” 

And Piers almost wanted to laugh. If Leon had asked him that under any other circumstances he would’ve probably popped an instant boner and thrown himself at the other man. Yet now there was so much sheer concern in Leon’s eyes that Piers couldn’t bring himself to even joke about it. Even this version of Leon cared _so much_ , and it was almost overwhelming to be on the receiving end of that. So Piers only nodded, shakily, not trusting his voice. 

Gently Leon helped Piers out of what remained of the shirt, and nervously Piers looked at the four parallel scratches running from his shoulder towards the middle of his chest. They were oozing blood, but it didn’t seem to be as bad as he’d feared. Even though it did hurt like hell. Especially when Leon sprayed the wound with disinfectant, as it burned so much Piers couldn’t entirely hold back the pained gasp. 

Neither of them spoke as Leon cleaned the wounds and then bandaged Piers up the best he could. Only when he was done, Leon gently ran his fingers along the edge of the bandage, biting his lower lip softly. He placed his palm on Piers’ chest, right over his heart, his fingers spread out over the bandaged cuts. The warmth of the touch made Piers shiver, and it took him a second to process the words when Leon suddenly spoke. “Y-you said earlier, about Marvin… that he would…”

Piers frowned, but then it clicked. “I’m not going to turn into a zombie, Leon,” he said gently, bringing his hand atop Leon’s, giving it a small squeeze. “I promise.” And Leon didn’t pull his hand back, only brushed his thumb over Piers’ skin, as if in a small caress, and that made Piers’ heart stutter in his chest. It was so unlike the friendly, casual touches he was used to sharing with Leon in his own time. This was… this felt momentous. And although he didn’t want to, he pulled his hand back, suddenly acutely aware of how things were shifting in the air between them.

Slowly Leon nodded. He’d held his breath but now released it, clear relief in that single exhalation. The surgical tape he’d used to attach the bandages was coming off at the corner so Leon slid his hand lower to fix it. He didn’t stop there though, but let his fingertips linger, brushed over the tanned skin underneath the bandage. His gaze flitted down, eyes darkening—

—and that was when he seemed to realize what he was doing. Quickly Leon yanked his hand back, stumbling to get up on his feet, the magic of the moment broken. “What makes you so sure?” he choked out, looking anywhere but at Piers, “You said there was no hope for _him_.”

With a sigh, Piers closed his eyes for a second, tried to collect his thoughts. There was heavy disappointment sitting in the pit of his stomach like a slab of concrete, but he ignored it, told himself over and over that this was for the best. They couldn’t afford any distractions with all the zombies out there. They’d only just met. At least, Leon had only just met Piers, even if Piers had technically known him for years. It was… such a mess, so complicated, they should be clever and not complicate it even further. 

Right?

Even though all the reasoning made Piers just feel shittier. So he cleared his throat, slipping into a professional façade. “This virus that’s turning people into the undead, it can be injected, or it can be fed to you, that’s a pretty certain way to catch it. But with wounds...” He shrugged a little. “Bites are the worst, because of the saliva. But with scratches, unless you get something in there, it almost never causes an infection. So I think I’m safe.” Carefully he looked at Leon again, but the other man still wasn’t meeting his gaze. 

Leon nodded though, making an affirming sound. He was flexing his fingers a little, a dusting of pink on his cheeks, and quickly he cleared his throat. “I’m going to find you a shirt,” he said suddenly, all but fleeing into the next room, to the row of lockers there. 

Silently Piers waited. Even when Leon handed him a soft grey long-sleeve he only pulled it on, careful not to accidentally aggravate his injury further. He was fully prepared for things to be odd between them now, so it took him by surprise when Leon suddenly took a seat right next to him on the bed. Finally Leon was meeting his gaze, even smiling at him. “I’m sorry. For… that,” he said, then hesitated for a second before going on. “We’re good, though?”

Clear relief washed over Piers and he couldn’t help but smile right back. “Yeah. We’re good.”

Leon nodded, even shifted so he could bump his shoulder against Piers’. “Lie down for a moment. I’ll sort through what we’ve found, maybe take a look at the map. Should help us go forward, right?” He obviously noticed the way Piers hesitated, as he stood up, pointing at the pillow firmly. “Head down. Take a nap. I’ll wake you up in fifteen.”

The determination in his voice made Piers chuckle and he nodded, obediently settling down on the lumpy mattress. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have even considered a break after a minor injury like this, but he had already been ready to crash before he’d been thrown twenty years back in time, and tiredness was weighing on him. So he figured that a small nap might be just what he needed right now, even if he doubted his ability to sleep with all that was going on.

Turned out that his doubts were entirely unfounded as he had barely placed his head on the pillow when he passed out, only to startle back awake when Leon was gently shaking his shoulder – the uninjured one. 

“Sorry,” Leon apologized, grimacing a little. “I know you’re tired but I think we really need to get going. I barricaded the last windows from the corridor, but I think some of them are getting through the main hallway. They can still open doors, even if it takes them a long time.”

Piers sighed. He probably looked as bad as he felt, like shit warmed over, but he forced himself upright anyway. He’d gotten out of worse spots, he’d deal. “Yeah you’re right,” he said, brushing his fingers through his hair. It probably stuck up into all weird directions by now, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. “What’s the plan?”

“I think the components we need are here,” Leon said, pointing at a room on the map. He then turned the page to another floor of the station, pointing at another room, “and here. I found some orders for them, and apparently they were delivered a few days ago. So let’s hope the zombies aren’t going through an industrial revolution just yet.” 

And Leon looked so pleased about his lame joke that Piers couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright. So we’ll get to the roof and down the ladder there?” he asked, and once he got a nod he confirmed with a nod of his own. “Lead the way.”

The nap should have helped but Piers still felt like he’d gotten hit by a truck, and if he was being realistic Leon wasn’t much better off. They got to the roof without problems, but it was raining so much outside that Piers almost slipped and fell right on his face the second he stepped out of the door. Somehow he managed to recover, even though he probably didn’t look exactly graceful. 

The rain was making them both grouchy though. If there was something worse than being exhausted, hurt, scared and stuck in a zombie apocalypse, then it was being _soaking wet_ , exhausted, hurt, scared and stuck in a zombie apocalypse. The thin shirt Piers was wearing was like clinging onto him, and he was already shivering from the cold. Leon kept on glancing at him, and Piers didn’t know if it was because he was worried or because he just liked what he saw. And he was too much of a coward to find out.

Piers went down the ladder first, looking around. There were a few zombies down the fire escape, but not too many, nothing overwhelming. Yet he figured he’d wait for Leon to come down anyway, as these things were always alerted by sounds and it would be best to have them both ready to fire. Only then there was an ominous creak behind him, and all he managed was to spin around before he saw the reason to it. The ladder was tearing off the wall, the metal screaming as it gave in, and before there was time for Piers to react at all, Leon fell heavily onto the ground as the ladder broke underneath him. The pained sound he let out was definitely not a good sign.

Quickly Piers was next to him, hovering as he wasn’t sure where to touch. “Are you okay? Anything broken?”

“My pride?” Leon answered, his voice still pained and a little breathless. He grinned though, and when Piers reached out a hand he grabbed it immediately, heaving himself upright. “Don’t worry. We can go on.”

Skeptically Piers frowned at Leon for a second, but the other man did seem unharmed, so he didn’t push. Easily they took care of the few zombies trying to climb up the stairs with little success, figured out the weird plumbing of the place and doused out the burning helicopter wreckage. It was like they weren’t only up against the zombies and the ridiculous design of the police station, but if something _could be_ broken it _was_ broken. 

“Seriously, this place is the _worst_ ,” Piers grumbled as they opened the door to finally duck inside from the pouring rain. “And I mean, I’ve seen a lot of shitty places.”

Leon looked at him curiously from the corner of his eye. “Really, nothing worse than this place?” He grinned a little. “I would’ve thought you’d at least enjoy the company.”

“Oh, trust me,” Piers laughed. Everything about Leon managed to lift his spirits, even now. “The company is amazing. And well,” he winced a little, “there was this underwater facility, I came _so close_ to losing an entire arm there. So I guess that still wins.”

“What happened?” Leon asked, shock audible in his voice. But just then they rounded a corner to the helicopter wreckage, and there was a creaking sound on the other side of it. Slowly the helicopter was lifted off the ground, while both Leon and Piers stared from wide eyes, unable to comprehend what was going on. Fucking hell, zombies couldn’t be this strong, right!?

Only then there was a hulking frame in a fucking trench coat of all things, and was it wearing a fedora? It was a damn _tyrant_ , and it was wearing a _fedora_?

“Jesus Christ!” Leon gasped out next to him, raising his gun and firing twice right in the tyrant’s face. “What the—?”

The tyrant barely flinched, and quickly Leon changed to the shotgun instead, and Piers followed right after. It was a blur of motion, as they tried to move away enough that the tyrant wouldn’t reach them, but at the same time sink as many bullets into its face as they possibly could. After some frenzied gunfire, the thing finally sank down onto a knee, staying still entirely.

“C’mon Leon,” Piers grabbed Leon’s arm, yanking him along as he sprinted past the tyrant. “We need to get away from here! Fast!” He knew that the monster wouldn’t stay down for long, they had minutes at best before it would attack them again. If he only had his rifle, some grenades maybe, they might be able to do some proper damage but like this? With the handful of shotgun shells and handgun ammo they had, there was no hope of truly taking the thing down. 

So they ran, but they barely made it around the first corner when there already were heavy footsteps echoing behind them. “Shit,” Piers hissed, trying to think fast, and as they rounded the next corner and he saw a door, he immediately yanked it open and practically pulled Leon inside with him. His first instinct was to clear the room of possible zombies, but that proved to be a non-issue. 

It was a tiny closet. There were shelves up along the back wall, filled with cleaning supplies, a little cart pushed against it with a mop sticking out of it. There was no room for anything else than the two of them to be hiding in there.

Leon started to say something but quickly Piers clapped a hand on his mouth. They were pressed together in the cramped space, Leon’s back to Piers’ chest, and the movement brought them even closer as Leon tilted his head back until it ended up on Piers’ shoulder. The footsteps got louder, each thump of them shaking the floor, and they both held their breath, listening intently.

At first the steps approached, until they stopped what felt like right outside the closet door. Piers turned his wide eyes at Leon, who looked back at him with wild panic. Piers was half-certain that next the door would be yanked off its hinges or that a big fist would punch right through it, and they’d have to face the tyrant head-on anyway. And he truly didn’t think that fight would turn out the way they wanted it to.

For a long moment they stood there frozen, time standing still, until finally there was the next heavy footfall again. The steps got more distant, leading away from them.

Only when it was completely silent again they breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief. “Jesus Christ,” Piers huffed, a small, relieved grin tugging at his lips. Leon’s breaths were hot and shallow against his palm and he instinctively shifted against him, before he realized what he was doing. Quickly he let go and tried to even take a step backwards, although that only resulted in him painfully bumping his elbow onto one of the shelves. There wasn’t any space to go, really, there was barely enough square footage for two men to fit in there in the first place. 

“I’m… sorry,” Piers said, “For that.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to meet Leon’s eyes so he looked down, an embarrassed flush stubbornly sticking to his cheeks and neck. What the hell had he even been thinking, manhandling a person he’d literally just met hours earlier? At least as far as that person was concerned. 

“Hey, it’s fine,” Leon said so softly that Piers dared to look up. Leon gave an almost boyish grin, even if his voice was still shaky, not quite free from fear. “I don’t mind, it’s not like…” He hesitated, shrugging a little awkwardly. “It’s okay, really. Thanks to you we’re still in one piece.”

The worried knot eased up in the pit of Piers’ stomach and he nodded. He opened his mouth to reply something but their faces were _so close_ , only a couple of inches between them, Leon smiling at him and suddenly there wasn’t a single word left in his mind. His throat was dry, and instinctively he swallowed, wetting his lips, and he didn’t miss how at that second Leon’s gaze dropped down to his mouth.

It would’ve been so easy to lean in. So easy to give in to the temptation, so easy to close the distance between them. 

But Piers cleared his throat, closed his eyes and nodded a little towards the door. “Let’s go find the electrics we need. Before that thing finds us here.” He wasn’t proud of how his voice was wavering, he was used to being much more in control than this. Yet there was nothing he could do now to take it back, nothing to salvage the situation anymore.

“Yeah,” Leon said, and Piers wasn’t sure if he imagined the regret in his voice, “You’re right, we need to go.” Then Leon moved, shifted to open the door and carefully step into the corridor again. He looked both ways, listened intently, and when he was satisfied that there was nothing and no one there he gestured for Piers to follow him. “Better get moving!”

There were no thumping footsteps, thankfully, and as they proceeded further into the station. They were both on alert though, even moreso than usual, and every single little sound made them flinch and turn, from the raindrops against the roof to a random creaking floorboard. The tyrant was somewhere in the building, and sooner or later they’d either run into it or it would find them. 

They headed towards the main hall, and the closer they got the worse the unease in Piers’ gut got. That was where they’d left Lieutenant Branagh, and judging by the injuries the man had had, Piers was a hundred percent certain that they would find him walking around undead. He didn’t know how to breach the subject though, didn’t know how he could tell Leon casually that ‘hey, that lieutenant of yours, we’ll probably have to shoot him’. 

Judging by the tension that kept building in Leon’s shoulders he remembered that more than well even without the reminder. 

Carefully they stepped into the main hall, and immediately Piers peered over the railing down to the lower level. It wasn’t hard to find the lieutenant, even less to notice that he was already far gone. He was dragging his feet, movements jerky and strained, his head bent to an odd angle. Piers considered his chances to hit a proper headshot from this distance with the weapons he had, and decided it was doable, raising his gun.

There was a hand on his wrist, though, and as he turned his head he was met with Leon’s wide but serious eyes. “Let me,” Leon said softly. There was a waver in his voice but he sounded determined despite that, and the set of his jaw told Piers there was no sense in trying to argue. “I owe it to him,” Leon explained, turning his eyes towards the zombified man. “He was nothing but nice to me, and I… He wouldn’t want to end up like this.”

Silently Piers nodded, lowering his weapon. Easily he fell in step right behind Leon, following him as they headed to the staircase. Once they’d gotten closer, Leon didn’t even hesitate before sinking Lieutenant Branagh with two precise headshots. Despite the gravity of the moment, Piers couldn’t help but be impressed. Sure he’d always known Leon was a good shot, had seen proof of it dozens of times. But it was a different thing to watch a seasoned agent in his thirties – now forties – drop zombies like flies than watching this bright eyed barely twenty-year-old do it. 

The gunshots echoed in the room, and it was immediately followed by the sounds of the undead groaning somewhere near. Piers patted Leon’s shoulder, before they quickly headed towards the reception area and from there into the next eerie hallway. 

Leon had marked the records room on the map, and the way towards it seemed to be clear. As Leon rounded a corner and then used his new key to open the door, suddenly an inhuman screech caught their attention. Leon looked up, gasping as there was a licker on the ceiling right on top of him, already raising its hand to strike. 

Piers practically tackled Leon into the room, both of them falling onto the floor in one heap of long limbs. Frantically Piers kicked the door behind them shut, breathing a sigh of relief only when they were in and the creature was screeching alone outside. In the fall he’d hit his shoulder and he grimaced as he checked the bandage for signs of fresh blood. All seemed good though, his borrowed grey shirt even starting to dry.

But when Piers turned to look at Leon the budding smile died on his lips. Leon was sitting on the floor, staring at the door from wide eyes, his breaths coming in shallow little gasps as if he couldn’t inhale any deeper than that. 

“Are you hurt?” Piers asked, concerned, shifting closer until he was sitting cross-legged next to Leon, who was practically hugging his knees close to his chest. “I’m sorry, I kind of fell on you, that must’ve—”

“No,” Leon shook his head, interrupting him. “It’s not that. It’s not, it’s.” He paused, squeezed his eyes shut and tried to inhale slowly. It was a little shaky, but obviously easier than the ones before. 

Gently Piers rubbed Leon’s back in slow circles, as he had already noticed how Leon leaned into the touch, the tension slowly bleeding off him. “It’s okay, you don’t need to talk about it,” Piers said, “but I do need you to breathe. And I need you to tell me if you’re hurt.” And they would need to keep moving, but that part Piers didn’t say out loud, as the awareness of that was looming over them anyway. 

For a few heartbeats Leon focused on breathing, but then finally he managed something that qualified as a smile, and looked up at the other man. “I’m okay. Not hurt.”

“Good,” Piers smiled, “hey, I know this shit is scary as fuck, but you’ve got to suck it up and go on. Don’t let it control you. That’s what’ll get you killed.” And the thing was, Piers knew Leon had already survived Raccoon City. He’d lived through it, he’d lived through so many consequent missions too, and he had what it took. 

But Piers also knew that a kind word and someone to rely on, even for a second, could make the world of difference. He bit his lip so he wouldn’t blurt it out loud, but he remembered more than well how Leon himself had been there for him. More than once. The first time they’d worked together Piers had fumbled a shot, and as a result he’d kept beating himself up for it so much he kept missing the subsequent shots as well. Until Leon had grabbed his shoulder and firmly but not unkindly told him to ‘let it go’.

So if Piers could now pay back at least some little bit of that? He’d do his damn hardest to.

“Anyone would be scared here,” he went on softly, “but you can do this.”

“Anyone?” Leon asked, looking up at Piers again. He arched an eyebrow, a small huff escaping him. “ _You’re_ not scared.”

Piers barked out a laugh. “ _Hell yes_ I am!” he said, “I’m fucking _terrified_. But I’m just better at hiding it. Plus,” he winked, hoping that he could make Leon feel a little better if he kept the mood lighter, “I have an excellent partner who’s got my back, who’s already saved my life tonight.”

This time the smile Leon gave Piers was honest, clearly relieved. Again his eyes flitted down, and for a second he looked like he was going to lean in. 

Then. 

Footsteps.

“Fucking hell,” Piers cursed, jumping up on his feet, and Leon followed suit immediately. Without a single word exchanged between them they quickly rummaged through the room, and when Leon made a small triumphant sound and held up a box he clearly thought was what they’d been looking for, they barely exchanged nods before hightailing it out of the room. They would seriously need to learn to be more silent than this, with that big hulking monster running after them. 

Just as they ducked around a corner they spotted a glimpse of it, marching determinedly towards them. Thankfully it didn’t seem to want to run, or wasn’t capable of running, at least not as fast as Piers and Leon were, so they were able to dodge out of its reach. They kept moving as quickly as they could, avoided the few straggling zombies instead of shooting them, just so that they wouldn’t make noise and attract the tyrant’s attention.

Ever since their run in with the most recent licker Leon had been really silent and the mood had obviously shifted around them. Wherein Leon had been determined and focused before, now he seemed almost defeated, sadness weighing on him, and Piers couldn’t stand to see him like that. 

So, he said the first thing that came to his mind. “This place is such a fucking maze. I don’t understand how anyone is supposed to work here, even under normal circumstances.” He huffed, and there already was the tiniest of smiles dancing on Leon’s lips so he pushed on. Maybe distraction had been exactly what he’d needed? “I had heard of this place, but I never imagined it could be _this_ bad.”

Leon flashed him a grin. “Once we get out of here, I’m asking for a transfer,” he said. “All precincts can’t be this bad, right?”

“Well,” Piers drawled, “they’re not all overrun by zombies if that helps?” It wasn’t a good joke, it wasn’t even really a _joke_ , but it made Leon huff out a small laugh and that was the sweetest victory imaginable in Piers’ books. He couldn’t help but chuckle too, as he glanced at Leon from the corner of his eye.

Silence fell between them for a while again, less oppressive this time. Until Leon broke it. “Hey,” he said softly, “you know… when we get out of here, would you maybe…” He trailed off, frowning a little as he couldn’t get the words out.

A bit worried, Piers looked at him. “What?”

“It’s totally cool if you don’t want to, but I’d just,” Leon shrugged a little, “I’d hate myself if I didn’t at least ask, so I figured that I could… ask you out?” He looked so genuinely hopeful, so earnest and open, and utterly irresistible. “Like. On a date.”

Immediately Piers’ heart was hammering in his chest so loudly he was sure that it would alone be enough to lure all the zombies and the tyrant to them. His throat laced up, his palms went clammy for cryin’ out loud, and he didn’t have the slightest clue what he could answer to that. He had no idea if he had been sent back in time permanently, or if it was temporary and he would flash out of existence any second now. If it was the latter, then getting Leon’s hopes up would be just cruel, right?

Then again, if it was the former… If Piers was stuck here forever in this different time he didn’t belong to, maybe he could at least open that door, grab that opportunity now that it was given to him on a silver platter. If he could never get back to his own time, maybe he could at least carve out a life here, somehow?

Suddenly Piers missed home so hard it hurt. He missed his teammates, he missed Chris and he missed Jill, he missed his family, he missed Leon. And although all he really wanted to do was throw himself at the older Leon he’d actually gotten to know so well, the younger Leon was still the same person, right? And he could definitely use a friend, at least.

So Piers gave a slightly shaky smile, hoping that it looked calmer than he felt. “I’d like that.”

The smile Leon gave him was absolutely breathtaking. “Great!” He laughed. “Now all we have to do is survive!” He was clearly faking the lightheartedness, as they were both aware of how dire the situation was, but there was something genuine about his excitement too, something contagious, and Piers couldn’t help the heart eyes he was no doubt giving the other man. 

Only then Piers realized that Leon was heading towards the staircase leading up to the second floor instead of making a beeline straight back to the jail. He only had to slow down and Leon glanced back at him, and he seemed to read the question in his expression already. “Marvin told me earlier there might be some more ammo and better guns up at the S.T.A.R.S. office,” he explained, “we could probably use those?”

Immediately Piers nodded. “You’re right. Lead the way.”

During their trek to the S.T.A.R.S. office they stayed silent and listened, tried to make sure they wouldn’t run into their new stalker accidentally like they almost had before. Besides they hadn’t been in the corridor that led to the room yet, so who knew what would be hiding in there. 

To their luck there was only one licker hanging onto the ceiling close to the door, and since they didn’t want to attract the attention of the tyrant they moved as quietly as they possibly could, sneaking past the licker and into the office. As soon as the door closed behind them they breathed simultaneously in relief, before taking in their surroundings.

“I think I can get it open,” Leon muttered to himself as he took in the gate keeping them from the armory, and fished something from his pocket as he stepped close to the computer.

Piers let him work in peace, idly walking through the office space, taking in how… obsolete it seemed. The computers were _so nineties_ , big and bulky, folders of papers everywhere, and somehow everything about the room was screaming out its own time. Piers reached out, brushed his fingers over one of the worn desks, and that’s when it caught his attention. 

The brown leather jacket with the words _Made in Heaven_ written on the back of it, a woman with angel wings right underneath. He only knew the jacket because Claire had gotten an exact replica of it made for Chris for his fortieth birthday, telling him not to lose _this one_ in a zombie apocalypse.

Grinning Piers stepped closer, curious to see the young Chris Redfield’s desk. It was shockingly tidy, as Piers was used to Chris having piles of documents to deal with and at least three coffee mugs because he always kept taking a new one as he forgot he already had one. Here though, there wasn’t much else but the computer, a couple of folders propped up in the corner. 

There was a guitar, however, and Piers immediately knew it was Chris’. What it was doing in his workspace? That was a far better question. 

Then of course there was the jacket, and in a moment of impulsivity Piers reached out and pulled it off its hanger. He pulled the jacket on, content to notice that the younger Chris had apparently been pretty much the same size as he was. Taller, sure, so the sleeves were maybe a touch too long but otherwise it was a good fit. 

Piers was startled from his thoughts when Leon spoke up, suddenly right next to him. “What are you _doing_?” he hissed, a little wide-eyed. “Those aren’t yours, you can’t just…” He trailed off, as he seemed to realize that they were in a police station filled with the literal undead, zombies walking the corridors instead of any living human being. 

“It’s okay,” Piers said, fighting back a chuckle, “Chris and I go way back. It’s his jacket.” He hoped Leon wouldn’t ask anything more, as he didn’t really want to elaborate on it and explain how he’d get to know Chris twelve years from now and end up working with him. 

Thankfully Leon didn’t say anything, but his face fell immediately. “I’m sorry. Your friend, he’s…”

It took Piers a second to realize what Leon must’ve been thinking, but then he hurried to explain. “Oh, Chris isn’t here, he’s… on a mission out of town. So we’re not going to run into him …out there.” On a whim, he nudged Leon with his elbow, and theatrically popped the collar of the jacket up as he wriggled his eyebrows. “Besides I look much better in the jacket, it’s only fair I get to try it on, right?”

“C’mon,” Leon rolled his eyes, but there was a smile lingering on his lips again, “I have no idea how your friend looks like. He could be _gorgeous_.”

Mock-offended, Piers widened his eyes and drew in a theatrical gasp. “And _I’m not_!?” 

There was no response and Piers didn’t even manage to say anything further before suddenly Leon grabbed the lapels of the jacket, holding Piers in place as he leaned in and brushed their lips together. It was entirely chaste, over before it properly started, and yet Piers felt like he’d been electrocuted as he stood shock still, still feeling that warm brush of lips on his own. 

Leon’s smile widened a little more, but he ducked his head as if to hide his embarrassment, turning towards the now open armory. 

For a second longer Piers stared after him, trying to calm down the swarm of butterflies in his stomach. He was sure he looked absolutely dopey with the way he was smiling, watching Leon go with the biggest heart-eyes known to man. And it took him quite a moment to shake himself out of it. Regretfully he shrugged off the jacket, folding it over the back of Chris’ chair. As much as he would’ve liked to bring it along, he felt like he shouldn’t.

“I’ve got us a magnum,” Leon informed as he stepped back into the office space. “And quite a bit of ammo. They had shotgun shells and some handgun ammo there too. I think we should be able to make it back to the garage?”

“Yeah, I—” 

Again Piers got cut off by the ominous sound of heavy footsteps. They cursed in unison, already more than fed up with the stalker they had, and quickly gathered everything they needed so they could duck out of the room. Leon had studied the map enough to know the fastest route for them to take, and as soon as they cleared far enough from the licker on the ceiling they quickened their steps into a jog. 

Maybe they were just really lucky or maybe the tyrant hadn’t actually noticed them for real, as they got all the way back to the garage without any mishaps. That’s as far as their luck held, though, as far as Piers was concerned. Goddamn _dogs_. Apparently they either hadn’t closed the kennel doors properly, or then the dogs had somehow busted through anyway. Thankfully they had enough ammo to put them down, and _this_ time neither one of them got pinned down and almost bitten by one either. 

Now that they had the needed wires and whatelse, Piers made quick work of the electrical lock and the jail cell opened with a metallic clank. It felt bad to even look at the mess of brain matter and blood on the wall, not to mention the slumped body on the floor. Leon was the first one to kneel next to it, grabbing the parking permit that they needed. He made a soft noise of surprise in his throat though, and when he pulled out a tape recorder he turned to look at Piers. “Should we listen to it?”

Piers only shrugged at him, unsure of what to really say to that. He had the advantage of knowing what had happened in Raccoon City for real. He had facts now that Leon wouldn’t gain for _years_ to come. So it was up to Leon whether he wanted to gather every little crumb of information or not. 

There was only a brief moment of hesitation before Leon pressed play, focusing on the voices that echoed in the cell. It was an interview with a woman, the questions aggressive and accusing, and the topic… what else than Umbrella, of course. Leon’s expression turned more and more confused with each word spoken, and it tugged at Piers’ heart to feign complete ignorance. 

“What is this?” Leon muttered as the recording ended, and he slipped the recorder into one of his hip pouches. “They’re talking about some G-virus, is that what did all this? And what’s Umbrella doing?” Thankfully he didn’t seem to expect answers to his questions, just rattled them off one by one as he straightened properly. “I have no idea what the hell is going on in here.”

“Maybe we can ask that FBI agent,” Piers suggested, although the mere thought of Ada left a sour taste in his mouth. “If we run into her again.” Yet it was the best possible answer he could come up with without outright lying to Leon. 

Leon seemed content with that and he nodded slowly. “You’re right, she must know more about this…” He was lost in thought for a second, before giving another, more definitive nod. “Let’s get out of here. It’s about time, right?”

Piers could only heartily agree. There were groans of zombies already approaching them, as when they opened the cell by overriding the electric lock, it must’ve opened every single lock in the entire jail. It meant that now all of those zombies that they’d seen trapped behind bars earlier were now free to attack them. 

In wordless agreement they both grabbed a flash grenade, exchanging quick, small grins as they realized it. With the help of those they managed to sprint past the zombies without needing to shoot even one of them, and it saved them their meager ammunition reserves. They dodged out of the cell block, relieved as soon as the door clicked shut behind them. As they stepped into the garage, Leon sped up his steps until he was sprinting towards the door, and Piers was just about to follow his lead when the wall caved in with a loud crash. 

Piers barely had the time to register that the tyrant had _fucking stepped right through the goddamn wall_ , before it had already grabbed Leon by the throat. Leon was struggling, choking out pained groans as he tried to twist and turn in the iron grip, but no matter how much he struggled and kicked at the tyrant, it didn’t ease up at all. 

And Piers panicked. He was trained for this, he was a professional, he was experienced, and yet when he saw that thing lift Leon up into the air so easily all he could do was _fucking panic_.

A second later there was the sound of an engine starting, the bright headlights of a car directed straight at Leon and the tyrant gripping his throat. Piers could only watch from wide eyes as a SWAT van sped right towards the two, speeding up as much as it could in the enclosed space of the garage. It was going to slam right into Leon, it was going to kill him, he was going to get hit by a goddamn car in a zombie apocalypse and—

The car crashed straight into the tyrant and smashed it into the wall. Leon dropped onto the floor, coughing and twisting, and finally Piers managed to make his legs work as he sprinted right next to Leon. “Are you okay!?” he burst out, and this time he had no qualms about touching so he gently cupped Leon’s cheek in his palm, making him tilt his head ever so slightly to see if he was alright.

“A-ada,” Leon managed to croak out, wheezing, his hazy gaze turning somewhere behind Piers. 

And that was it. Piers snapped. He jumped up, taking two menacing steps towards Ada, and didn’t bother to hold back his anger at all. “What the _fuck_ was _that_!?” he yelled, ignoring the way she backed up until her back was almost hitting the side of the van. “You could’ve hit _him_!” He was livid. Not only because of the stunt she had pulled, no. He was even more angry at himself for the way he’d frozen, how he hadn’t helped _at all_ , how if it had been up to him Leon would be dead now, his windpipe crushed by the tyrant. 

Quickly Ada regained her footing, stepping elegantly away from between Piers and the van. “What was that?” she asked, and even through the pretended calmness there was an edge of anger in her voice, “That was _saving_ your sorry asses. And that’s _twice_ now.” She spun around, looking at Piers. “And there’s two of you. Good job.”

Piers took a step towards her, but there was a hand on his shoulder, and with a sideways glance he realized it was Leon. “I didn’t realize you were keeping score,” Leon said, and although his eyes were on Ada, and he was addressing her, he shifted until he was standing even closer against Piers’ side.

Inhaling as slowly as he could, Piers let the anger bleed out of himself. Leon’s hand was grounding on his shoulder, and having Leon so close helped him channel his mind out of the blind rage. It was like unknowingly Leon was a well of strength for him, keeping him in check. 

…not unlike his older counterpart. The mere thought of that made Piers’ insides ache. 

“Look, this isn’t a game!” Ada burst out, her calm façade cracking. “Nothing _dies_ down here.” She was cut off by the van moving, the tyrant obviously not as dead as they had hoped it would be. With a frustrated groan Ada lifted some kind of a remote control and pressed the button, both Leon and Piers flinching as the car blew up next to them, suddenly engulfed in flames. 

Ada wasn’t bothered in the slightest, instead only turning to Leon and tilting her head a little. “I take it you have the key card?” she asked, already starting to turn towards the shutters when Leon suddenly threw the recorder at her. 

“Yeah,” Leon answered, nodding towards the recorder she’d easily caught. “And this. I was hoping you could explain what’s on it.”

“Maybe,” Ada drawled. She obviously had no intention in being helpful in the slightest. “After I hear it. But let’s first get out of here.” She turned around again, her face unreadable and her posture so nonchalant it had to be a well-practiced act. There still was sharpness to her voice as she almost mockingly pointed out “We might want to open the shutter.”

“What the fuck is your problem!?” Piers burst out, the anger from earlier still brewing right beneath the surface. Again there was a hand on his arm, squeezing slightly, and when he glanced at Leon he got a small, private smile from him. For a second Piers closed his eyes, breathed in deep, but then he nodded shortly. 

Leon didn’t say anything but instead stepped up and let them out of the garage with the keycard. The shutter creaked and slid open, and Leon gave Piers an almost hesitant look before slowly following Ada outside. She was walking quickly, listening to the same recording they were already familiar with, and both Leon and Piers followed a few paces behind her. 

“Is that the intel you needed?” Leon asked curiously as soon as the recording ended, even took a couple of quicker steps to catch up with Ada. “What exactly are you looking for?”

She sighed, but didn’t slow down, nor did she even glance back at the others. “Unfortunately, no. Ben didn’t come through.” She paused for a second, but then apparently made up her mind as she went on. “I’m looking for more info on the people responsible for this mess.” She came to a halt as there was no way to get past the crumbled mess of rubble the road had turned into. “Road’s out. Going through that gun shop seems like the only way.” 

Piers would’ve rather done anything else than followed along with Ada. Yet Leon didn’t even hesitate as he followed, so Piers resigned to his fate. He watched Ada pick the lock to the gun shop, resisted the urge to snap at her when she complained about the mess inside, and kept telling himself that this would be their way out, this would lead them to safety.

Although in all honesty, Piers knew better. 

They grabbed whatever they thought useful, Piers lagging behind Leon as he found some shotgun shells and stopped to reload. He saw from his peripheral vision how Leon stepped out of the back door, and he frowned as it almost sounded like Leon was talking with someone. But it was only when he heard a loud “I said _don’t move_!” that he realized there really was someone there.

Quickly Piers approached the door, saw Leon standing with his hands raised in surrender. “I’m just passing through,” Leon said, outwardly calmly, but there was a waver to his voice that didn’t belong there, that betrayed how he was feeling. “I’m going to ask you to lower that weapon.”

“Like hell you are!” the stranger burst out, raising his shotgun so high that Piers got a clear view of it too through the doorway. “You’re going to turn around, and go right back out the way you came in.”

Slowly Piers inched closer to the door, before taking one quick step out so he could situate himself beside Leon, a few steps behind him. “Drop the weapon,” he said, making sure that the man saw he was holding a shotgun, too.

“I think your daughter needs help, sir,” Leon interrupted softly, almost gently, and only then Piers realized there indeed was a small girl behind the stranger. 

“Don’t tell me how to deal with my daughter!” the man burst out, but at the exact same time Ada stepped out of the shadows too, curtly snapping out a “Drop it.”

 _Great_ , Piers thought. That was all they needed, Ada pointing her gun too, throwing another variable into the mix that Piers didn’t trust nor could predict. The man with the shotgun was torn, his eyes going wildly between all three of them, until he realized that Ada wasn’t pointing her gun at _him_ , but instead at his _daughter_.

Quickly the man raised his gun even more determinedly, stepping between them and the girl. “No! Wait!”

“Step aside,” Ada said coldly. “We need to terminate her before she turns.” 

As much as he hated it, Piers had to agree with Ada. Nothing good could ever come out of letting people suffer with their infection until the inevitable happened. In this time there was no vaccine, there was no cure, and by extension there was no hope for the little girl. And although Piers wasn’t sure if he had it in him to pull the gun on a little girl who hadn’t even turned yet, he knew that was the only possible outcome.

“Terminate?” the man seemed both shocked and angered by the poor choice of words. “That’s my fucking daughter!” 

Leon was the first to put down his gun, turning to Ada and ignoring the shotgun still pointed at them. “Ada,” he tried, even took a step closer to her, “Just let them be.”

Honestly Piers hadn’t expected Ada to listen, but she lowered her gun. No one was paying Piers any attention, not even the stranger, so he kept his weapon ready just in case the situation would escalate one way or the other. 

The man seemed satisfied now that Ada and Leon weren’t pointing their guns at him and he turned sideways, speaking to his daughter. “Emma, sweetheart. I told you to stay put…” A myriad of emotions flickered over his face as she croaked something out, but the dominant one was devastation. The man’s heart was breaking and there was nothing he could do about it. “Yeah, Emmie, daddy’s here,” he whispered, going down on his knees to hug her close to him, “I’m here, okay.”

No one had any words to say that would’ve felt adequate to the situation. The man clutched his daughter, held her close with his shotgun forgotten on the ground. Rain was hammering down on them, soaking them to the bone, but when the man spoke again in a hoarse whisper it was oddly audible even through the pouring rain. “Those fucking things outside, look what they did to us,” he shook his head slowly. 

He turned towards Leon, his voice getting stronger. “You’re a _cop_. You’re supposed to _know_ something— _how_ did this _happen_!? Huh!?” He paused, taking in a deep breath. “She was our sweet little angel.”

Piers couldn’t hear any more of this. He closed his eyes and turned, focusing on the sound of the rain thrumming against the roof, against the pavement around them. It was soaking through his thin shirt rapidly, even through the bandage on his shoulder, and he shivered from how cold it made him. It was nothing compared to the chill that went through his very _soul_ as the little girl faintly asked for her mother, when the man told her that mommy was sleeping. 

These viruses kept destroying people, destroying families. And while Piers had known it for years and years, somehow seeing this, seeing where it all began, made everything feel all the more real in some way.

The stranger spoke up one more time. “Just go. Give us some privacy.” Then he slammed the door shut behind himself, leaving Piers, Leon and Ada standing in the pouring rain. 

There was a moment of silence, but Leon broke it, turning towards Ada. “You know,” he said, his voice shaking with barely controlled emotion, “it’s one thing to keep the truth from _me_. But why _him_!?” The loud sound of a gunshot cut him off and his gaze snapped towards the door, but he wasn’t silent for long. His resolve set, and this time there was clear determination in his voice. “I want to find out what’s happening here. And stop whoever’s behind it. Helping people like _them_ ,” he gestured towards the closed door, his voice almost cracking with the sheer amount of emotion in it, “ _that_ ’s why I joined the force.”

Leon was standing tall, his jaw set and his eyes sharp, determination radiating from him as he stared Ada down, demanding answers.

And Piers had never been more in love with him than right at this moment. He had to swallow down a lump in his throat as he watched Leon, this compassionate and caring person he’d gotten to know _twice_ by some miracle. He would’ve followed Leon anywhere, done anything if he’d only asked, and the feeling was so overwhelming he didn’t know what to do with it. 

Ada stepped closer to Leon. “My mission is to take down Umbrella’s entire operation,” she lied. She was staring Leon down, though, as if she was finally taking him seriously instead of seeing him as a random officer who was in way over his head. “We may not make it out.”

There was no hesitation. Leon’s resolve didn’t even budge. “Whatever it takes to save this city… count me in.”

That finally spurred Piers into action, too, and he stepped closer until he could grab Leon’s elbow to catch his attention. “Leon,” he muttered, glancing at Ada who had already taken off and was walking ahead of them down the street, “you _can’t_ trust her. She’s not who she appears to be.” He was praying that he wasn’t fucking up the timeline or messing something in the future by saying anything about this, but he couldn’t just watch Leon put his trust in Ada without a word.

“How do you know that?” Leon frowned.

Before Piers had the chance to reply, Ada called out for them. “Coming, boys?” She sounded almost amused, like she knew she was in control of the situation. “Let me tell you about Umbrella.” 

Just like that, she had Leon’s attention, and Leon quickly followed her. For a second Piers glared after her, but then with a groan took a few running steps to catch up with Leon. 

Ada led them to a large building that had _Umbrella_ written on it in big bold letters, then along the side of it, all the while explaining to Leon about what kind of a corporation Umbrella was and what they were researching. There were no zombies, no monsters, nothing that was following them and it was easy to be lulled into a false sense of security. 

When Piers realized Ada was bringing them into the entrance to the sewer system, he couldn’t help but pull a grimace. “Seriously?” he asked, but Ada just gave him a dismissive wave of her hand, even bowing a little bit as if to tell him to go ahead before her. With a groan Piers climbed in, stubbornly ignoring whatever words Leon and Ada exchanged. He didn’t like her. Not one bit. So he tried to ignore whatever she was saying, because he knew that at some point his temper would otherwise get the better of him. 

They hadn’t even gotten very far into the sewer system before there was a loud sound, the floor and the walls shaking around them. Instinctively Piers pulled his gun, trading wide-eyed looks with Leon. “Jesus,” Leon breathed out, “was that an earthquake?”

Probably not. Nothing ever was that simple. “I sure as hell hope it was,” Piers answered, gripping his weapon tighter. 

Their wishes were shattered a second later as they caught a glimpse of something gigantic and scaly passing them by behind a gate formed of iron bars. Whatever urban legends there were about monsters living in the sewers, this thing seemed to really take the cake. “What the hell!?” Leon gasped out. 

Although Leon’s eyes were wide, fear written clearly on his features, there still was a determined set to his jaw. He wasn’t going to back down, not now, Piers knew that much. He’d seen that expression on Leon’s face so many times before. Yet he had to at least give it a try, so he caught Leon’s gaze with his own and pitched his voice low. “We can still turn back. No one would blame you.”

For a split second it looked as if Leon was considering it. Then he shook his head, inhaling sharply through his nose. “No,” he said, equally low, as if he didn’t want Ada to listen in on them either, “I have to do this, Piers. I have to help. If I can save just… one single person, it’ll be worth it.”

That sounded so much like Leon that Piers couldn’t help but smile faintly. Truthfully he hadn’t expected anything else. “You’re right,” he agreed. It took him by surprise when Leon suddenly stepped closer, until they were almost chest to chest, only inches between their faces. And he wanted to, so badly, to just reach out and brush his fingers along Leon’s jaw, lean in to kiss him to show how much he cared.

There was a deep sparkle in Leon’s eyes, and he tilted his head as he spoke, in almost a whisper. “I may not trust her, but I trust _you_ ,” he paused for emphasis, nudging Piers’ shoulder with his own as he went on, “We got this far, right? We’ll get through this till the end.” He only waited for Piers to nod as an answer, before he honest-to-god smirked at him and added, “and then you owe me a date.”

That drew a low laugh from Piers. “You’ve got it.”

Sure, Piers still didn’t trust Ada, didn’t like the sewers, and didn’t think this was a good idea. But if Leon showed him this amount of trust, made it clear how he wanted to stick together? Then who was Piers to deny him that. 

They proceeded further into the sewers, and Piers couldn’t help but shudder. His shirt was still soaked wet, clinging onto him, and it offered next to no warmth down here where the air felt nearly freezing. For a few more times they heard loud bangs behind the walls, felt the floor shake beneath their feet, and they hoped that whatever scaly monster that had been it would leave them alone by some stroke of luck. 

The walkway they were on ended abruptly, and Leon hesitated at the end of it. Ada was the one who huffed and broke the silence. “Unfortunately this is the way. Down you go.” 

Leon pulled a face but dropped down anyway, making a disgusted sound as soon as he fell waist-deep in dirty water. And the next second another one of those loud bangs made all of them startle. “Wait here,” Leon said, gesturing with his hand for Ada and Piers to back off. “I’ll just—”

He barely managed one step forward before a gigantic form lumbered at him, snapping its jaws menacingly. It was the largest alligator Piers had ever seen in his life, and he immediately screeched “ _Leon _, get back!” He rushed to the end of the walkway and grabbed a hold of the railing, reaching out as far as he possibly could to offer Leon his hand so he could pull him up again.__

__“Jesus Christ!” Leon jumped, but as he turned around he didn’t seem to notice Piers at all as he sprinted under the walkway and away from those snapping jaws._ _

__Piers didn’t think. One second he was crouched down on the walkway, the next he jumped down and landed into the murky water with a splash, placing himself between the monster and Leon. The first two shots into the beast’s ugly face made it clear that no weapons they had would even slow it down though, and Piers missed his usual arsenal more than he had all night._ _

__“Piers, run!” Leon yelled at him and Piers didn’t need to be told twice, as he turned around and ran as fast as he possibly could with the water slowing him down. Leon was right in front of him, stumbling over his feet, and Piers only managed to catch Leon’s arm and keep him upright._ _

__There was all kinds of crap floating on the surface, slowing them down as well, but they ran the best they could. Suddenly Piers felt his foot slip and the next thing he knew he was falling forward. Just before his face hit the surface of the water there were strong arms holding him up, and he scrambled to get his feet underneath himself so they could continue running._ _

__Leon had grabbed Piers’ hand as he pulled him upright and he didn’t let go even now, clinging onto him as tight as he could as they ran for their lives. The gigantic jaws snapped way too close for comfort, and Piers was certain that sooner or later those would bite a piece of either one of them. Fleetingly he hoped it would be him rather than Leon. He barely registered that Leon yanked on his hand, making him fall down on his ass and slide underneath a large pipe._ _

__There was a large _Warning_ written on the pipe and Leon was the one who thought fast and acted. He pulled his gun and blasted two rounds into the pipe, making it explode in a burst of flames and heat and pressure. _ _

__Instinctively Piers flinched away from the explosion, sheltering his face with his arms, but then there were bite-sized chunks of the alligator raining on them, landing into the dirty water with splashing sounds and hitting the walls with dull thuds._ _

__When Piers managed to blink his eyes open he turned to Leon, who was staring at where the alligator had just been, eyes wide. “Chew on that!” Leon burst out, “You overgrown son of a _bitch_!”_ _

__Somehow the words were the last drop and Piers burst out into hysterical laughter. He doubled over with the force of it, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and the loud bursts of laughter echoed from the walls around them. It took him a good moment to get a grip enough to choke it back, and he was still chuckling as he straightened. “Damn, Leon, that was—”_ _

__Piers was cut off by a firm body colliding with his and he was knocked backwards into the wall, a hot mouth insistent on his own. Piers gasped, and Leon took the given opportunity to deepen the contact, kissing Piers like his life depended on it. His arms were on either side of Piers’ head as he pinned him against the wall, and Piers didn’t hesitate as he brought his arms around Leon in return, fingers clutching at his back._ _

__At first Piers thought the sparks were caused by the kiss, but then the electricity crackled in the air around them and suddenly there were little pinpricks on his skin all the way from his fingertips to his chest, worming deep underneath his skin. Piers gasped again and Leon pulled back enough to make a confused sound in the back of his throat, and that was when Piers realized what was happening._ _

__All he had time for was to snap his eyes up and stare at Leon from wide eyes, before the electric current punched through him. Yelling in pain, Piers fought for control, but it was all in vain as his whole world faded into black._ _

____

*

This time when Piers came to, he was lying on a couch, and the first thing he registered was Chris’ face only inches from his own, a worried look in his eyes. He squinted, trying to make sense of what had just happened, and without even really thinking it through he croaked out a pained “Leon?”

Chris arched an eyebrow. “…no.” He looked so confused that he apparently thought that Piers was out of it enough not to recognize him. 

Before Chris managed to say anything further or think that Piers had lost his mind, Piers reached out and clapped Chris’ shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “Shut up, Chris. My head hurts. Spare me the twenty questions.” 

Slowly Chris nodded. “We were really worried,” he started, and when Piers struggled to sit up he immediately reached out and helped him. Even afterwards he kept a warm palm on Piers’ back, worry clearly etched onto his face as he looked down at him. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

“It’s a fucking time machine,” Piers laughed humorlessly. There was worry gnawing on his gut, telling him that he had to make sure if Leon was okay, if Leon was alive, if Leon had made it, although he _knew_ for a fact that Leon had lived through Raccoon City in the past. But what if he had fucked up the past by suddenly appearing there? “I was in Raccoon City,” he added after a brief pause, “in 1998.”

Chris stared at him from wide eyes. “In Rac—”

“Chris,” Piers cut him off, “I’ll tell you everything about it later, but can I just…” He didn’t know how to ask what he needed without it sounding absolutely crazy so he trailed off, frowning unhappily. 

Slowly Chris nodded, again. He examined Piers’ expression for a second, and when he spoke it took Piers by surprise. “What’s going on between you and Leon?”

For a second Piers panicked, thinking that Chris somehow knew, that he’d seen into the past and knew about the kiss, about the …everything that had happened during those hours they’d spent together, and worse yet, about the feelings Piers had been nurturing for forever. 

Then Chris went on, a soft, amused smile dancing on his lips. “When you blinked out of existence it took both Jill and me to hold him back from following.”

Piers’ eyes shot open and he stared at Chris. “Really?” There was something like hope blossoming in his chest and he didn’t manage to squish it down. 

“Really,” Chris laughed, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. He shook his head and finally straightened. “Sort it out with him, okay. I promise you, it’ll be worth it.” He arched an eyebrow, giving Piers a pointed look. “I’m gonna let him inside now before he’ll break down the door. Make it quick, we need to get you to the med bay for a check up.”

“Sure,” Piers answered distractedly, his thoughts already on Leon. 

It felt like a million years passed between when Chris closed the door behind himself and when it opened again and Leon stepped in. He was a mess, his hair mussed up and… were his eyes rimmed a little red? He gave Piers a shaky smile as he stopped in front of him, though, and the first thing he did was nod towards the injured shoulder with the four clawmarks still aching distantly. “How’s the shoulder?”

“Oh thank _god_ ,” Piers burst out, closing his eyes for a second. “I thought I’d imagined it. But I was there, right? In 1998?” He opened his eyes again and searched for Leon’s gaze with his own, his heart beating in anticipation as he waited for the confirmation. 

“Yeah,” Leon answered, softly. “I thought I imagined it, too. When you vanished in that storm of electricity, I didn’t know how to explain it. And… _she_ pretended like you were never there to begin with. I got shot a bit after that, so afterwards I figured it was just… some kind of a fever dream.” He fell silent for a moment, studying Piers’ face, before he went on in a voice barely audible. “Then I saw you again. In 2012.”

“So this is why you stared at me like you’d seen a ghost,” Piers said, flashing Leon a crooked grin.

Leon laughed. “Yeah. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. That I met your brother or father or… But then Chris introduced us and I didn’t know how to handle it. I’m sure you noticed.”

All Piers wanted to do was throw himself at Leon and hug him, kiss him, _hold him_ , but instead he squeezed his hands into fists, short nails digging into his palms, and told himself to get a grip. The question burst out of him before he managed to hold it back, though. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

There was something sad in Leon’s eyes as he looked straight back at Piers. “Would you have believed me?”

It made sense and Piers only nodded, processing the information in his mind. He wouldn’t have believed a word of that, not in a million years. But as much as he knew that Leon had only made the logical choice in not telling him, he _ached_ for the years they’d lost, all the time that had passed and the hurt that it had caused. His shoulder throbbed as if in empathy, and he couldn’t believe he technically had a fresh wound that was _twenty years old_.

Suddenly Leon was right there, so close Piers could smell his cologne, could feel the warmth radiating from him. “I’m sorry I kept it from you,” Leon said, and placed a gentle hand on Piers’ uninjured shoulder. “You deserved the truth but I was… too much of a coward to tell you.” 

Piers looked up, met Leon’s eyes with his own, and tried to smile. “I love you.” The words sounded oddly loud in the room and Piers almost startled himself. He’d meant to say he didn’t blame Leon, that there were no hard feelings, that he was _so fucking sorry_ that Leon had had to go through the rest of that ordeal on his own as Piers had simply _abandoned_ him. None of that came out though, the confession forcing its way past his lips before he could stop it.

With a sound dangerously close to a whimper Leon sank down, until he was on his knees on the floor. He was between Piers’ thighs and he only had to reach out to wrap his arms around Piers to hug him close. Piers pressed his face into Leon’s neck and when Leon laughed Piers could feel his throat vibrating. “I’ve been at least half in love with you ever since you pulled me behind you and blasted that licker’s head off.”

“Yeah?” Piers asked, voice shaky. He was glad he was hiding in Leon’s neck because otherwise there would’ve been a very real risk of his tiredness and his emotions overruling him and making him burst into tears. 

“Yeah,” Leon agreed, chuckling. “Why do you think I’ve kept flirting with you for the past …what? Six years?”

“I don’t know, maybe you just like flirting,” Piers muttered petulantly. 

Finally Leon pulled back, smiling as he brushed his fingers along the side of Piers’ face. “You know, you’re the first guy I ever kissed.” There was nothing teasing in the way he was looking at Piers, his gaze open and honest. “And the first one I ever asked out. And I…” He hesitated a little, but then seemed to make up his mind as he went on. “I’ve never felt the same for anyone since.”

It was almost overwhelming, all of those feelings Piers had thought unrequited suddenly on open display, Leon telling him so matter-of-factly that he wanted him, too. “I owe you that date,” he blurted out after a pause, “if you still want it. It’s kind of twenty years late.”

“Better late than never,” Leon answered immediately, grinning almost relieved. He seemed to hesitate then, but it only took a second for his resolve to set in. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, holding his breath until he got a nod as an answer. 

When Leon leaned in and connected their mouths in a slow, almost hesitant kiss, Piers half expected the spark of electricity again. Of course it didn’t come, but instead a deep sense of contentment settled in his chest. There were things to sort out, to talk about. He’d need to find out if his trip to the past had somehow changed the present, or if it was something he’d always been meant to take. 

All of that could wait for now, though. All of that would wait.

The only thing that mattered, the _only one_ that mattered, was right here.


End file.
